Page 60 of The 24th Hour

Yuki started to laugh, her bell-like chortle so full of glee, it was impossible to hear without joining in. Even Darcy, who was clearly all worn out, blew wine out of her nose, and Claire slapped the table repeatedly as she guffawed.

When we were all breathing normally again, Claire asked the table, “Where’s the rub? Cindy looks good in anything. And for the something borrowed, wear my pearls.”

Yuki said, “Please put me on the gown jury. Do you have pictures of the contenders?”

“Why, yes we do,” Darcy said.

While we dug into our dinners, Darcy passed around her phone with its picture gallery open to the three top choices. Cindy peered at the time on her phone, then asked her mother if she should call her an Uber.

“That would be great, honey,” Darcy said.

Cindy requested the ride and got a confirmation. She wasn’t in the mood for fiery food or more interference in her gown selection, but she bore up, and made comments about the last three standing: “That one,” she said, “makes me look pregnant and I am definitely not. Number two,” she said, “looks like it was made on the cheap in a sweatshop.”

Darcy said, “Designer gown, by the way.”

Cindy ignored her mother. She said, “This, the third loser, looks good on Mother, but it’s a closeout and it’s two sizes too big for me.”

Darcy scoffed.

Just then, Cindy’s phone pinged.

Cindy said, “Your ride is here, Mom.”

“I should go, too,” I said.

I gave Claire some folding money to cover my share, said good night to her and Yuki, then Cindy and I walked Darcy Thomas out to her ride. I gave Darcy a good hug, told her I’d see her at the wedding.

“Cindy will be wearing white,” I said. “I guarantee it.”

“Cross your heart?”

“Uh, no.”

Cindy gave me a soft punch in the arm.

I was laughing again as I opened the car door for Darcy and waved goodbye. I hugged Cindy, too, saying, “Let’s talk tomorrow.”

We kissed cheeks, then I jogged down the block to my blue Explorer, the third nearly identical model I’ve had in the last several years due to on-the-job gunfire. Yes, this is truly what I do for a living.

Skipping past that, I focused on how in twenty minutes I’d be bringing Julie and Martha home from day care with their nanny, our neighbor Mrs. Gloria Rose, and that I’d be home for Joe when he came through the door. Whatever time that was.

CHAPTER 78

JOE WATCHED BOB SWEAT.

Bob Nicholson was speaking from his heart, but he hadn’t seen around this corner and the consequences had just gotten real. He asked for a glass of water and Steinmetz shook his head no.

“Keep talking, Bob.”

“I see it like this,” Bob said. “I can show St. Vartan’s protection team how to put the hospital behind a virtual wall. I can destroy the Apocalypto program from the root, and I can tell you how to shut down the decision-makers. All tonight.”

Steinmetz sat forward in his chair, said, “Did you negotiate with Oakland Pediatrics?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry to say. I saw the headlines. And the photos. Before you ask me ‘Then, why St. Vartan’s?’ there was no way to turn down the assignment. One guy I know did that, and I heard that he’d gotten a bullet and a wood-chipper funeral.”

Steinmetz grunted his ambivalence, but Joe knew that he had decided.

Steinmetz said, “And what you want from us is a new identity and location in exchange for putting the hospital’s computer network back together, protecting it, and destroying Apocalypto.”

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